There is no integrity anywhere, not even in the world of journalism. Bye, Bye Charlie Rose. And now adios Matt Lauer.
I remember back in the day, when Lauer still had hair, that he was described as an eligible bachelor. All I wanted to do was gag. I guess “good looks” overshadows bad (read: despicable) behavior.
Having grown up with an older brother who seemed to get away with everything, I’ve been led to believe that if men behave badly, it’s just that. “Boys will be boys” right? What the fuck does that even mean? To me it means boys (and I’m lumping some men with boys because men who behave badly shouldn’t even be referred to as men) can do whatever they want, say whatever they want without repercussion. If the boy is handsome versus not attractive, the more he can get away with.
What would happen if I whipped out my boob and squirted breastmilk at a male co-worker as a joke (because, after all, that’s one of the defenses of boys, right? “I was just joking around.”) I’d be out of a job so quickly I couldn’t even blink.
All of these allegations of sexual assault by powerful men has gotten me all fired up. Shit needs to be stopped being swept under the rug. Stop protecting these boys and allowing this most awful, disgusting behavior.
Oh, and yeah, I’d have to agree with the Girl Scouts that families need to stop forcing their kids to hug other relatives. When I was a little girl, I had two MALE relatives that I was deathly afraid of. To this day, I cannot explain why. Maybe it was their voice. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to be smothered in unwanted kisses. Maybe I didn’t want to be held against my will in a super long embrace.
I used to fucking run and HIDE from these relatives. And guess what? My parents and siblings would laugh it off. I was fucking scared as hell, and it was just a fucking joke to them.
When I was in college, I had an assistant professor who I had known prior to being in his class. I had participated in a journalism workshop after graduating from high school. The assistant professor was an editor at the local newspaper. He was the cool guy. Everyone called him by his first name. I really liked him, from the first time I met him all throughout the semester.
Our final was held in the college pub. That’s what a cool guy he was. I remember him making a remark about me getting drunk and dancing on the table. It didn’t strike me as odd. Just a joke, right?
Then, one day, I think it was on my last day of class or something like that, I went to this guy’s office. We chatted for a bit and then said our goodbyes. He hugged me, and hugged me, and hugged me. And in that moment (and to this day), it fucking creeped me the hell out.
I don’t even know if I discussed this with my then-boyfriend or anyone. Ever.
There was just something odd. It didn’t feel right. Although nothing else happened, my whole feeling about this person was tarnished. I didn’t bother to have any contact with him for a long time. Part of me wanted to think he was very sentimental, perhaps thought of me as his daughter (he had one adoptive daughter who was a little older than me). But on the inside, I felt REALLY creeped out.
But I’m sure, like my other interactions, my friends and loved ones will say I’m overreacting and that I need to get my broom and sweep this under the rug. But boy, is this rug getting lumpy.